


The Letter

by kronette



Category: NCIS, The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-08-30 12:20:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8532880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kronette/pseuds/kronette
Summary: Today was a very bad day, indeed. Robert Francis Vaughn November 22, 1932 - November 11, 2016. I needed to do something, so I wrote this. It was his most famous role, but he gave us so much more. Thank you, Robert.





	

Ducky walked into Autopsy like he did most mornings, though lately, it had been with more of a shuffle than a brisk stride. He removed his hat and placed it on the coat rack, his jacket soon as securely settled on the hook. He bade good morning to Lance Corporal Dunning in 23 before turning on his desk light. 

"What's this?" he exclaimed at the thick letter beside his phone. He didn't recall leaving a letter unopened the previous evening, but it had been a long day and he'd been distracted by the team's discussion of plans for Veteran's Day services.

He was distracted yet again by the arrival of an energetic Mr. Palmer, carrying an evidence box stacked with more files. "Good morning, Dr. Mallard," Jimmy beamed at him, nearly setting the box on the instrument tray before stopping himself and walking over to the far wall, and an empty table. 

"Good morning to you, Mr. Palmer, and thank you," Ducky replied, pleased at the young man's every-growing thoughtfulness. It had taken sometimes painful guidance, but Mr. Palmer was shaping up to be a world-class Medical Examiner. Jimmy started to sort out the files and Ducky turned back to his desk, having remembered the mysterious letter. "Mr. Palmer, do you know anything about this letter?" he asked as he picked it up. A strange feeling tightened his chest as he held the letter in his hand. 

"Letter? Oh! That was waiting at security this morning. I hope you don't mind that I brought it down."

Ducky heard Jimmy's words, but his heart was pounding in his ears as he recognized the return address: Connecticut. He knew of only one person living in that state, and they'd sworn never to have any contact unless…

Ducky sank into his chair, his legs suddenly unable to support him. The letter trembled in his equally unsteady hand, and as he gripped it tighter, he felt a familiar shape through the envelope. He bowed his head and closed his eyes, trying to maintain his composure. Fifty years was a very long time for a friendship to last, though he was never entirely sure he could count it as such. It had, after all, been 33 years since they'd last spoken in person. That didn't diminish the sorrow that filled his chest, or the tears that prickled his eyes. 

"Dr. Mallard? Ducky?" A hand came to rest on his shoulder and Ducky immediately covered it with his own, his eyes never leaving the envelope. "Would you rather be alone?" Jimmy asked quietly. 

Ducky had to get his breathing under control before he felt confident enough to answer, "No, my dear boy. I've just received…please. Sit." He patted Jimmy's hand and nodded to the chair next to his. When Jimmy was settled, Ducky turned the envelope over. There, embossed at the top, was the intricate pattern that held no meaning to anyone except those who knew what to look for. His finger, unsteady now in old age and grief, traced over the N and S hidden in the pattern. 

Ducky's smile was weak and his heart ached, but he felt compelled to tell their story. "A very long time ago, in another life, I knew a man. A very special man in a very special organization. I was also part of that organization. It was dangerous and exciting work that took us all over the world. We were partnered together for years, but when the organization was dissolved, we went our separate ways. We had an understanding, though. If anything should happen to either of us, we would send…" Blinking tears from his eyes to clear his vision, Ducky carefully slit the top of the envelope and pulled out the papers, unfolding them to reveal a silver pen. Tears slipped down his cheeks but he laughed, picking up the pen and twisting the cap off of it. The antenna looked to be intact, but he didn't dare risk destroying something so delicate, especially now. 

Pushing back from the desk, Ducky opened his top drawer all the way and retrieved a black velvet case from the back. He opened the case to reveal an identical pen and an empty slot next to it. Smiling fondly at the communicator, he fitted it into the empty space and closed the lid. His rested his fingertips on the case, letting memories he'd kept buried for over thirty years surface, both the good and bad, remembering the man he'd known. 

He almost missed Jimmy's softly spoken question: "Who was he?"

Ducky chuckled. "He went by so many names in his lifetime. But the one I knew best, was my friend, Napoleon Solo." He gently tapped his fingertips on the case and sighed. "And now I must say goodbye to my friend. If you don't mind Jimmy, could I have a few moments?" He knew the dear boy would grant him any request, but Ducky was grateful for the comforting squeeze to his shoulder before he did so. 

Ducky had not wanted to open the letter in Jimmy's presence. Though the organization was no more, some secrets were meant to be taken to the grave. The handwriting was vaguely familiar; his own handwriting had changed much with the passage of time. The slanted _Illya_ at the top was as familiar to him as _Ducky_ , but he couldn't read the words. Not yet. He glanced through the pages, eyes taking in the scrawling loops and neat points, until the last page. He knew it was the last letter he would ever receive; the communicator had proven that. It was still a shock and he had to cover his mouth with his hand at the words closing the letter:

 _It was a wild ride, my friend. Closing Channel D for the last time. Napoleon_.


End file.
